Izayoi's Return
by Britedark
Summary: After the destruction of her home and the death of her lover, Izayoi returns to her ancestral home with the hanyo baby in her arms. Will she and Inuyasha be allowed to stay, and if so, on what terms?
1. At the Gate

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

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_**Note:** The first three chapters of this short story have been moved from the collection "Taiyoukai's Butterfly," to accommodate the rules against story duplication. All of the chapters were written in response to various prompts on Inuyasha-centric fan-writing communities on LiveJournal.  
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**At the Gates**

She had stopped just out of sight, to remove the straw hat and unbind her hair. Now, she stood before the gates, her black, calf-length hair swirling in the late-winter breeze. Hardship had chapped and reddened her face; she wore the straw cape and patched clothing of a peasant, and the cheapest of woven straw boots. But, tall she stood, chin up and shoulders back. Held next to her body, wrapped in a sling made of an intense-red material-not at all hidden-was the white-haired, prick-eared proof of what most would call her 'shame.'

Two soldiers approached, long spears held warily before them. "What do you want, onna?" asked one.

The other was less restrained. "On your way, youkai's whore! No sluts here!"

She did not seem to hear them, her stance unyielding, her eyes scanning what could be seen within the walls. Spotting one of those she had hoped to see, her voice rang out, clear and strong, with the cultured cadences of a woman born to a noble family. "Honorable Captain Satoshi," she called. "Bid one of your men to inform the lord, that the lady Izayoi would exchange words with him."

Everyone froze momentarily, staring at the slender figure accented in black and red. Voices rose, crested, then quieted as the captain stalked forward. He stopped even with the opening, and met her serene, but unyielding gaze.

His eyes fell. He managed not to bow. "The lord will be informed."

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******Author's Note:** This piece was written for the LiveJournal Community "Issekiwa," for the prompt 'Proof.' It was originally posted on October 13, 2011. It won first place.


	2. Brother

_**Disclaimer**: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

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**Brother**

Izayoi moved gracefully, denying the stiffness of chilled muscles, as she followed the servant sent to fetch her. Beneath her protecting arm, Inuyasha stirred in his sling, sniffling noisily as he sampled the panoply of smells.

For a moment, Izayoi imagined that she being welcomed back with a warm bath, attendants, clean robes, and in privacy, smiles and embraces from her family.

She knew better.

Yet, even her heart quailed when her oldest brother stepped in front of her. Tall, appearing even more massive in his armor, he glared down at her, his eyes chips of black ice.

"Ani-ue," she whispered.

"So, abandoned, are you?" he sneered. "Thought you could slink back, begging for forgiveness?"

"My lord died," she said simply. "Died, fighting to ensure I and our son survived."

"You should kiss father's feet, that he is weak enough to still care," he said with open contempt. "I would slaughter that trash of yours, and give you a knife and silken rope, so you could end your shame."

She regarded him, pained and angered. Where was the laughing brother of her childhood? The young man who had teased her for being so short; who had brought her sweets when she was sad? Who had persuaded their father that she should learn to defend herself with the naginata?

"There is no shame in true love, regardless of form." She gave him a long, level look, until red flushed his cheeks. "Onii-san."

She turned and walked away.

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**Author's Note: **This was written for the Issekiwa LiveJournal community, for the prompt "Short and Sweet." (Both words had to be used in the drabble.) It was originally posted on December 8th, 2011. It took second place. This follows directly on chapter two (At the Gates). (Moved from "Taiyoukai's Butterfly" on 8/15/2012.)


	3. Second Skirmish

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

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**Second Skirmish**

She had girded herself for battle, before she entered the gates. Her armor was the unyielding determination to protect her son. Her sword was her wits, her pride, and her strength of will; her tactics her knowledge of her family and their people.

She was shaken by the encounter with her eldest brother, but she refused to acknowledge a blow. She was nearly unarmed; however, when she was escorted not to her father's hall, but to a very familiar bathhouse. Within stood familiar women, one of whom she had adored since childhood. Izayoi smiled, and opened her mouth to greet them—

"The lady is to be bathed and robed as befits a daughter of the house," stated her escort coldly. "I am to escort her to our lord, when she is ready. You are not to converse with her."

One and all, they nodded their heads. One and all, they stood with their eyes downcast. Izayoi felt colder in the warmth of the bathhouse, than she had without the gates. Fear cut deep, as she recalled her brother's indirect reference to _seppuku_, and the walls of her inner fortress shivered.

She rallied herself, remembering the love of her youkai lord, and drawing on the certainty that there was no shame in what she had done, or in the baby she held. "Wait without, Sora," she told her escort. "Hana," she said, looking straight at one of the youngest women, "I require a child's yukata, and fresh underclothes for my son. Linen, mind you. Fetch them." Her gaze drifted to the others, her expression as cool and detached as ever her mother's had been. "I will bathe and feed my son, first, and then, I will accept your aide in bathing and donning my robes. If that is not acceptable, then I will go to my lord father now, and you may attempt to explain to him why I am still clad in the rags in which I escaped the destruction of my home."

They flinched. Heads nodded. Young Hana dashed away. Izayoi turned to her escort. "You are still here, Sora?"

"I, uh—"

He struggled, but wilted under her intense focus.

"Go." She did not relent.

He swallowed hard, and fled.

She turned back. The women broke into activity. She sat down on a tall stool with a gracious nod, unwrapped her son, smiled at his wide, anxious gaze, and scratched his ears for reassurance. Unfastening the straw cape and let it fall, rearranged the warm, useful red fire-rat robe, and brought Inuyasha under its protection to nurse.

A bench was set before her; a shallow bucket of water set down. Izayoi looked up. The older woman flicked a quick glance at her, a smile ghosting across her face. Izayoi returned the tiniest nod.

Masumi.

Possible ally.

Izayoi refused to feel relief.

The real battles were still ahead.

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**Author's Note: **This was written for the prompt "Battle", for the LiveJournal Community "Inuyasha's FanFiction." It was originally posted on December 29th, 2011. (Moved from "Taiyoukai's Butterfly" collection on 8/16/2012.)

'seppeku' - ritual suicide


	4. Decree

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

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**Decree**

She stood at the entrance to the hall; a slender figure refusing to be born down by all the weights she carried. Black hair streamed like silk over the heavy, trailing, brocaded and embroidered outer robe that had been her mother's, which covered layers of new silk robes. In her arms she carried the weight of her hanyo child, wrapped in the fire-rat robe that had been her beloved's final gift. And behind her impassive, powdered face, she bore all the weight of her grief and her fears.

Four men stood arrayed within; Izayoi's three brothers and father. But, her eyes were on the only one who mattered.

"Enter," he called.

She walked with the tiny steps required by her constricting clothing, making it appear effortless. Stopping at the correct distance, she inclined her head. "Chichi-ue."

"Daughter." His eyes were hers, though shaded by heavier brows and framed by wrinkles. "So, the thief is dead, and my daughter returns."

"The Inu no Taisho died in battle," she replied. "He saved the people of the Musashi plains from the dragon, even as Takemaru invaded my palace and slaughtered my people. My lord returned in time to save me and my child, but he was mortally wounded. Takemaru fired the palace, and they both perished, buried when the roof collapsed."

"So, at least one dog is—" The mutter stopped abruptly as her father raised his hand.

"When the youkai stole you from our midst, it was assumed that you were as dead, to us." Her father's face was as impassive as her own, but his voice was chill. "So, why have you returned?"

Eyes met eyes, and her voice was as chill. "Sanctuary. Takemaru used deceit and treachery to obtain the tools he needed to locate and invade my domain. He rebelled against your decisions. He wanted to destroy what you decided he should not have. Will you let his spirit have its desired revenge?"

Her brothers stirred, but her father did not react. "You bear a hanyo in your arms."

"I hold my son," she retorted. "I hold the son of him who saved untold hundreds from flaming death. I hold the son of one who was honorable, just, and generous; the one who repaid many times their worth, the two wrongs he committed against this domain."

His eyes narrowed slightly. The sons shifted, two uncomfortable, and one glaring with rage. She ignored them. Only one man could decree her fate.

Her father.

The silence went long and long, and never did his face reveal his thoughts. Nor did hers.

"I will not turn away my own blood," he stated finally.

She did not dare breathe in relief. Not yet.

"However." Now, his eyes changed, darkening.

"My daughter has no son," he proclaimed. "She will have her own quarters. Should she choose to keep a—pet, it is none of my concern, as long as it behaves."

She bowed, refusing to let the fresh weight show.

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**Author's Note:** This was written for the prompt "Revenge" for the LiveJournal community Inuyasha's FanFiction. It was originally published on December 31, 2011. It won the contest. (8/15/2012)


	5. Better Than Silk

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

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**Better Than Silk**

Izayoi did not relax until Sora left her in a corner room of the palace. It was as far away from the family rooms as possible that was still suitable for a family member: there was a distinct musty smell, and it lacked only the wind to be as frigid as outside.

But, it was private. Izayoi sighed, her shoulders drooping, starting to ache.

Inuyasha wriggled. Pulling his arms free, he tried to push at her robes, making small complaints, ears flat and nose wrinkled.

Izayoi smiled sadly. Inuyasha had started complaining when she had picked him up after being dressed earlier, before the meeting with her father. Even she had smelled the dye coming from the inner robes, so she hadn't been surprised. Fortunately, in their trek back to her family hold, Inuyasha had learned many things. A whisper, a gentle, rubbing fingertip on his forehead, and the baby had immediately lapsed into silence. Wide-eyed, anxious, but quiet.

She hoisted him higher in her arm, tickled an ear, and nuzzled his face. "You're such a good baby, Inuyasha," she whispered. "Mama's so very proud of you."

His grumbles were replaced by a gurgle and a happy grin. He reached up, one hand going to her chin, the other making clawing motions. With her free hand, she pulled a lock of rose-water-rinsed hair forward. "Is this what you want?"

He grabbed the lock with both hands and pulled it across his face, chortling.

She laughed.

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**Author's Note:** This was written for the prompt "Die or Dye" (choose one) for the Issekiwa community on LiveJournal. It was originally posted on January 18, 2012. It won the contest. (8/16/2012)


	6. Masumi

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

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**Masumi**

A sleepy baby snapped alert, ears pricking, head turning. Warned, Izayoi turned.

The shoji slid open a crack. Eyes looked in. The shoji slid back fall the way.

Masumi stepped through and bowed, smiling. "Welcome back, Izayoi-sama."

"Masumi! You were ordered not to speak with the woman!"

"Nonsense, Sora," she snapped, straightening and turning to face the angry servant. "The lord acknowledged his daughter. Are we to do less?"

"What? How do you know?"

She laughed. "How many servants were loitering outside the hall, stretching their ears? Are you a fool? In the time it took the lady to walk to here, do you not think gossip spread the word to every person in the palace?" She sniffed audibly as Sora deflated, mouth agape. "Get in here, all of you," she ordered crisply. "Do not shame ourselves by leaving our lady in this unsuitable place one moment longer than necessary."

Bustle rose about her. Izayoi remained where she was, bouncing Inuyasha a little, tickling his ears, then, when he started to fuss, gathering the red material more closely about him.

A motion caught her eye. "No incense, please."

Everyone looked at her and froze. "The—" She hesitated, acutely aware of her father's decree, but unable to demean her son. "He—his nose is very keen."

"Of course, lady," said Masumi, shaking her head at the young girl next to the brazier. "Maybe a kettle, with herbs?"

Izayoi smiled and nodded. The transformation continued, under the brisk orders of the somewhat plump, gray-haired woman. Izayoi kept alert, keeping part of her attention on Sora who was shifting his weight back and forth, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

She had always found the shrunken, wizened man to be a toady and a sneak.

She wondered who held his leash these days. Not her father, she hoped

The room was warming from the braziers, and beginning to look familiar, with a chest and a wall divider that Izayoi remembered from her teenage years. The men who had carried in the chests, the dividers, and the futon were drifting out of the room when Masumi turned her attention back to the young mother.

"Should I hold the—um, ah, the little one while the girls undress you, my lady?" she asked, her fumbling effort to find a reference to Inuyasha evidence enough that the gossip had not only communicated her status, but Inuyasha's as well.

"His name is Inuyasha," Izayoi said calmly, pulling back the red cloth. Inuyasha whimpered, then gave a long whine, staring at her with flattened ears and distressed, tearful expression.

"Not even trying to hide what she's done, is she?" Sora muttered to one of the men loitering by the shoji. "Mate with a beast, carry his get, flaunt the little monster and bewitch the old man—"

Crack! Masumi's slap rocked the air, delivering shocked silence. Izayoi had not even seen the woman move. "You keep your lying, slavering tongue off our lady, and off the little one!" Masumi glared at Sora, towering over the shorter man, wrath in every fiber of her. "Don't think because the heir tolerates you, that you can make free to gossip and belittle his sister, let alone his honorable father! And don't think that gossip cannot be used to slime the low ones, as well as the high, or do you want me to talk about some things I've seen over the years! Now, everyone out! Except Hana, and Mia."

Hands clenched, narrow face flushed with rage, Sora slunk out of the room, followed by the rest of the servants, save Masumi and the two young women she'd called out. Looking unrepentant, Masumi turned back to Izayoi, black eyes now meeting hers squarely.

"Shall I take him, my lady?" she asked, holding out her hands. "It will be easier to undress, without holding him."

Izayoi hesitated, unwilling to let her defenses down. "I will put him down on the chest," she said. "He is—not used to others holding him."

"Nah, lady, you think I can't tell he'll start wailing the moment you let go?" asked Masumi, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Puppy or baby, that's a wee little one who's tired and unhappy, and you think I can't tell, all the babies and puppies I've tended over the years? Here." With one hand, she reached out and tickled Inuyasha's belly.

The baby squeaked, and stared at the hand resting on top of him. A hand work-worn, chapped and gnarled, unlike his mother's hands. Inuyasha sniffed, grabbed a finger, and hauled it to his mouth. He gnawed on the knuckle for a few moments, then pushed it away with a face of disgust.

Masumi only laughed. "Too old and tough for gnawing on, is it?" Izayoi found the baby transferred from her arms without realizing it. Moments later, Inuyasha giggled as Masumi tickled him again. Struggling for composure, Izayoi watched as the older woman teased Inuyasha into another set of giggles, then allowed her hand to be captured by both tiny hands and thoroughly sniffed and examined.

The older woman smiled at her, then glanced at the others. "You two, let's get our lady out of these fancy robes, and into something comfortable, so she can feel like herself, and not some great princess on display."

As the two younger woman moved behind her, Izayoi returned the smile.

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**Author's Note: **This piece was written for the prompt 'Gossip,' for the LiveJournal community InuYasha FanFiction. A shorter version was originally posted on January 22, 2012. It won the contest. (8/17/2012)


	7. Visit In Shadows

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

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**Visit in Shadows**

He walked through the halls on stockinged feet, as silent as a thief, though none could have denied him entrance into any room. He faded into the shadows, as barely noticeable as a ghost. Master of the palace and its domain, he nevertheless chose on this night to be as a stranger: unnoticed, unseen, unheard, moving in the depths when all within were trapped in sleep.

He came to his destination, and paused at the entrance, shadowed hands on shadowed wood. Slowly, bit by bit, he edged the sliding door open, so slowly that the slide of wood on wood could barely register to his ear.

Squeezing inside, he closed the door as quietly as he had opened it, then looked around. A single, tiny lamp provided illumination, and he examined the visible contents of the room, before slipping towards the draped canopy set against one of the inner walls.

Light barely penetrated the curtains as he let them fall. He waited until his eyes adjusted again. Gray shadows overlay shadows. The darkest shadow spilled over the lighter in a spreading serpentine of black. One foot stepped onto the cushion of futon and quilt, and then the other. He kneeled, and reached towards the mound under the quilt.

A sudden cry froze him. The mound thrust itself up with a gasp, a pale face snapping around. "Who—what do you want?"

"Izayoi."

Another sharp intake of breath. And then, "F-father?"

… … …

Izayoi had learned many things on her trek, not the least about her son. Even in her sleep, she had learned to tell the difference between a plaint of hunger, and a warning cry. Even exhausted, she slept lightly, though not as lightly as her hanyo son. She had snapped into instant alertness, ready to grab her son and flee, or to freeze, and hide. Now, she struggled to calm her racing heart, as Inuyasha clung to her with tiny, sharp claws digging into her clothing, even as she clutched him tightly to her breast.

It was too dark to see more than his silhouette, and she doubted that he could see more than that, for which she was grateful. Only when she thought she could control her voice did she ask, in a bare whisper, "Why are you here, father?"

He did not answer immediately. When he did, his voice was as soft. "Fortunate is the lord whose heart and mind are in harmony. What the lord must do, and what the father would do, are not the same."

Izayoi breathed deeply as she realized what her father meant, and her eyes stung. "I didn't want to bring trouble to you, papa," she whispered, switching to a less formal term.

He sighed. "Your lord had no allies you could have turned to?"

"None who could stand up to those who would attack any who dared harbor a human and her hanyo son."

A long silence. "Will youkai attack here?"

She considered what she knew. "The rage was mostly directed against my lord," she whispered slowly. "If it is not apparent that his son survives here … the lady abbess Setsuna helped me fashion a charm that hides Inuyasha's youki. It is tied into my reiki: as long as I'm alive..."

"My elder sister has always been clever," he commented drily.

Silence again, broken by his heavy sigh. "You do understand why I cannot acknowledge the existence of your son?"

Even in the darkness, she looked away. "My brother…"

"Only in part. Though you should know, your brother advised me that the 'beast' should be tossed over the wall, and that you should be required to commit seppuku, to cleanse the family's shame."

She could not prevent the small whimper, as he confirmed what she had suspected. "I told him that was the worse advice he could give, and if he were my son, he would never mention such a thing again," he continued. "Would that I had recognized other advice nearly as bad, before I sent him away for training. When he came back, he was what I had thought I wanted—a peerless warrior and captain. But, eventually, I realized the cost of that training…"

"His heart," she whispered. "His laughter."

Fingers touched her cheek in silent regret.

"May I ... hold the boy?"

Izayoi breathed in sharply, startled at the request, and more: stunned at the yearning in his voice. Her hands clutched at the baby, and then loosened. Gently unhooking his fingers from her robe, she learned forward in the darkness and found the other pair of reaching arms. Feeling his hold, she released Inuyasha and stood up. Slipping outside the draperies, she went to the chest and picked up the lamp. Holding it carefully, she went back inside, and sank down beside her father.

What she saw brought a lump to her throat. In the light, she could see them gazing solemnly at each other, the baby's hands around his thumb. Green fire flickered in Inuyasha's pupils as she brought the lamp closer.

"I remember the Inu no Taisho's first visit," her father said. "It was growing dark, and I remember his eyes flickering with that green fire, as he turned his head."

"His eyes are the same as his father's," she said. "But, one night a month, he turns human ... and then his eyes look like yours."

He looked up at her for moment. "I would rather think of it as he has your eyes."

She smiled and nodded. He looked back down at the baby. "His name?" he asked presently.

"Inuyasha."

He let out a soft snort. "Descriptive."

"His father's decision."

He sighed. Reaching out with a finger, he touched the boy's forehead, tracing a figure. His lips moved silently. Then, he shook his head, and carefully touched one tiny ear.

"Such innocence, doomed to suffer for the supposed sins of the parents," he murmured. "And I cannot ease his path: it is all I can do to protect the mother, and that only as long as she makes no demands that might be construed as wanting acknowledgment of where she has been, or what she might have borne."

Izayoi nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat. "I understand, father."

He laid the baby next to her, and then reached out and snuffed the wick of the tiny candle. "Could I help light the way for the Izayoi who walks a path neither light nor dark, I would," he said. "But, the lord cannot risk the family and clan, to obey the urgings of the father's heart. The lord measures deeds in what best protects all who look to him. The father mourns, that he cannot do more. That he cannot say that he loves his daughter and is proud of her courage. That he cannot proclaim that he has a grandson with golden eyes and silver hair."

His hand touched her head.

"We can only dream we met. My Izayoi."

He slipt away, once again the ghost, the thief in the night. Izayoi sat for long and long after he left, a sleepy, then sleeping Inuyasha held close to her chest, silent tears streaking her cheeks as she went over every word of the visit, not wanting to lose one word of the only evidence she might ever be able to give to her son, that his grandfather was not the cold lord who would never acknowledge his existence.

Cold and chilled, she finally lay down again, pulling the covers high, letting the storm break.

She had returned to the place where she had grown up.

But, she would never truly have returned home.

_The End_

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**Author's Note: **This piece was written for the prompt "Bad Advice", for the LiveJournal community Inuyasha FanFiction Contest. It was originally posted on January 24, 2012. It took first place. This has been edited slightly for grammar and word choice. (8/18/2012)

An epilog will be added to this story.


	8. Epilog: Your Beloved Butterfly

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

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**Epilog: Your Beloved Butterfly**

To My Dearest and Most Terrible Lord,

Your butterfly misses you every candle-mark of every day. Her love for you is unending. How she yearns to see you even once more, in either of your magnificent forms. She yearns to feel the touch of your clawed hands, or the silk of your fur. She yearns to see the love and laughter in your expression; that was reserved for her alone.

This butterfly can at least almost look into your eyes. Our child's eyes are gold, like yours, save on his human nights, when they are like mine. How I wish that you were still alive, so that you might hold him in your arms. That he would have your strength protecting him, and your wisdom, honor, and laughter teaching him.

I do my poor best, beloved lord. I will do anything to protect our son. Your final gift, the robe of the fire-rat, has already saved our lives more than once. On my trip back to my family's home, it served as ever-warm blanket, and protective jacket. For now, I use it as a sling to hold our baby; when he walks, it will become his.

Oh, that you could see him! He is growing so fast—faster than a human child. Already, he is starting to crawl, and so I write this while he is asleep, for already, one must keep an eye on him. He has your eyes, and his hair is whiter than yours, and his ears! They twitch at every sound, and move with every change of mood, and he goes into ecstasy when they are stroked or tickled.

My only fear is the day I have to explain why he is shunned by everyone except myself and my women; when I have to explain what he is. My lord father granted me sanctuary after your death, but he cannot and will not acknowledge his grandson. Worse, my eldest brother hates and loathes the child, and my lord father's protection will not outlast his death. But, I will be strong, and I will plan, for I will protect our child with all my heart and all my strength, until the day I die. I am determined that your love and sacrifice will not be in vain, my lord. Inuyasha will be a son to be proud of.

Are youkai souls like human souls? I do hope that one day our souls may be reunited, that we may watch over our son together, and then, when he no longer needs us, it is my hope that we may take new lives and find each other again. Our time together was so short, far shorter than we dreamed, when you first named me 'Butterfly.' But, I cherish and remember with joy and love every moment that we spent together.

And I will never regret.

Your beloved butterfly,

Izayoi

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**Author's Note:** This was written for the Valentine's Day challenge (Love Letter) for the "Inuyasha's Unsung Heroes" LiveJournal community. It was originally posted on February 14, 2012.

This ends "Izayoi's Return." I do have some ideas on further stories centering on Izayoi, but I do not have any immediate plans to work on them, since other stories have priority. Short pieces will go into the "Taiyoukai's Butterfly" collection, while longer pieces will be published under their own title, as this one was. Thanks for reading! (8/29/2012)


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